I felt tears stinging my eyes and I knew they were more for the fight with Charlie than anything Alex had, or hadn’t, done. ‘I don’t think there is really anything to work out now.’ I shrugged, the movement jostling one of the tears free.
Charlie flexed his fingers on the wheel and then gripped it again. After a moment, he dropped one hand and switched off the engine.
‘I’ll walk you to your door.’
‘No. It’s all right. Really. I’m just…’
Charlie turned his face to mine. ‘Oh, Libs. Please don’t cry. Especially if you’re not going to allow me to tear him off a strip.’
I shook my head. ‘I’m not crying over him. I don’t think.’ My temples were throbbing and I pressed a hand to one side. ‘It’s just one of those days. I don’t feel quite right and now I’ve fallen out with you, which makes me feel worse than any of it.’
Charlie’s hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb gently brushing another loose tear away. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily.’ He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. ‘Come on. You need to get inside. You really do look a bit peaky.’
‘You don’t need to get wet. I’ll run.’
Charlie ignored me and got out of the car. A few quick strides and he was beside me, his hand out ready to assist my exit. We half ran to the main entrance of the flats, collars up, vainly trying to keep the driving rain out.
I plugged my key in the lock and stepped inside.
‘Do you want to come in?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘No. Thank you. You look done for.’ He bent and hugged me. ‘Get some rest.’
I nodded against his shoulder. Pulling back, he gave me a smile but I could still see the tension in his jaw.
‘I’m OK, Charlie. Really.’
He nodded once, gave a tight smile and wave then turned and began walking away, his back straight, long strides taking him quickly out of sight. I pushed the door closed, threw the lock and engaged the safety chain. Pulling off my coat and kicking off my shoes, I headed to the bathroom to grab a towel for my hair. Drying it off, I padded slowly to my bedroom, dropped the towel and unhooked my dressing gown from the back of the door. Snuggling into its cosy warmth, I wrapped it tight around me over my clothes and headed back into the living room. Picking up the remote, I flicked the TV on and flopped down on the sofa.
It was another two hours before I heard from Alex.
?? Are you at home?
I looked at my phone and rolled my eyes. Which did nothing for the headache that had only increased in intensity since I’d got back.
?? Yes. The restaurant didn’t allow overnight camping.
Sarcasm might be the lowest form of wit but, frankly, I was long past caring.
?? I really am sorry.
I didn’t reply. Partly because I felt like crap and also because looking at the phone’s screen was making me feel worse. It beeped again.
?? Can I come round?
Wow. Seriously? I didn’t reply.
A minute later, the phone rang. Alex’s smiling face showed on the screen. Ignoring it would make all this a much bigger deal than it was. And the truth was I had a feeling that something had changed. Maybe it was the fact that this was supposed to be a great weekend, a special weekend, and things were already conspiring to make it the opposite. The rumbling storm outside and the rain pelting against the balcony window all just added to my feeling of something being off. Dad and Matt had always scoffed at the gut feelings Mum and I had had. But they more often than not turned out to mean something. Except we’d called them ‘heart’ feelings because we thought the phrase follow your heart always sounded nicer than follow your gut. I had one of those tonight. And I knew it wasn’t just a case of too many breadsticks. I answered the call.
‘Hello.’
‘I’m down in the car park. Let me come up, please.’
‘My car park?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are you doing down there?’
